


Dream Away (A Better Way)

by rudimentaryflair



Series: AELDWS 2019 [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: A Sporadic Amount of Smut, Don't copy to another site, Humor, M/M, Mild Smut, Pre-smut?, i avoided directly addressing any genitalia and am so proud of myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 12:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20153896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudimentaryflair/pseuds/rudimentaryflair
Summary: In which having a militarized subconscious poses some problems of its own.





	Dream Away (A Better Way)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Week 5 of the AELDWS 2019 challenge.
> 
> Prompt: Oneiric  
Genre: PWP  
Word Count: 500
> 
> (Welcome to my first, half-assed attempt at smut. Enjoy it while you can, because this ain't gonna be a regular occurrence. Not betaed - proceed with caution ;)

The hotel lobby is presumably all straight deco lines and smooth floors, lavish and expensive and  _ swanky  _ just like everything else Arthur likes, but Eames abandons all notions of observation in favor of shoving Arthur into the lift, fumbling at the buttons until the doors start sliding shut. He pins Arthur to the back wall and bites down where his shoulder meets his neck, and Arthur hisses, “Fuck, fuck,” and digs his fingers into Eames’ back.

“I have the best ideas,” Eames says, lips flush against his skin, and Arthur says, “Stop talking,” and kisses him, hard and solid. He tastes like pinot noir, fragrant and thick in his mouth.

The moment they enter their room, Eames shoves him up against the door and attacks his mouth again. Arthur kisses back just as bruisingly, pressing himself hot along Eames’ body, tie askew and hair disheveled. There’s something about destroying the sharp lines of Arthur’s suit that makes Eames a little breathless, so he slides a thigh between his legs, grinds it down viciously until Arthur’s gasping, “Ah,  _ fuck -  _ if you’re not fucking me in  _ ten seconds _ ,” and Eames pants, “Alright, alright,” and plucks a bottle of lube from thin air. 

Which is precisely when a sniper takes them both out with one well-placed shot through the window, splattering their brains all over the door.

Eames wakes up randy and pissed off. He can only imagine that the same happens to Arthur, judging from the annoyed exhale that comes from beside him. 

“I don’t think that was what you had in mind when you said this was going to be ‘beyond our wildest dreams’,” Arthur says, after a long stretch of silence. Leave it to him to point out the obvious.

It was only a matter of time before Eames decided to use the PASIV for non-extraction related purposes. A man can only deal with so many well-fitted dress pants until his mind starts straying away from corporate espionage. 

“Five minutes,” he’d pleaded when Arthur looked skeptical about the idea. “Just give me five minutes.”

“That’s a pretty harsh assessment of your abilities,” Arthur had deadpanned, but he agreed.

In hindsight, perhaps Eames had been a little too hasty in his proposition for dream sex. 

“What the hell just happened?” Eames asks the ceiling, disoriented by the previous events.

“My projections tend to get … belligerent. They have a bit of a hair-trigger.”

Eames scowls. “A bit?”

“You know,” Arthur says conversationally, “normal people just try bondage.”

“I was hoping for a new experience,” Eames mutters.

“I think being shot at mid-fuck can be considered a new experience.”

“Oh - you know what I mean!” Eames throws his hands up and flops back down on the bed. 

Arthur lets him brood silently over his failed sexcapade attempt for a little longer, before saying, “We  _ do  _ own a set of handcuffs we’ve yet to use,” and Eames says “Oh thank god,” and scrambles off the bed to go grab them.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Originally called "Bang Bang", but that was a little too on the nose.
> 
> Some clarifications in case some of ya'll are a lil confused (I know I was while writing this).
> 
> 1) Eames is the dreamer, Arthur is the subject. Eames dreams up the hotel because he's fond of having expensive things (Arthur) and then destroying them (also applies to Arthur, but we're talking about the hotel right now). Arthur's projections are the ones wandering around the dream, which brings me to -
> 
> 2) Both of them, presumably, have a militarized subconscious. Hence, their minds are like bombs set to go off at the slightest disturbance. Which is why the sniper KOs them the moment Eames manipulates the dream. Arthur's projections are very vigilant and (unfortunately) too professional to let them dick around.
> 
> (I didn't even get into the LATENT CONTENT aspect of dreams, but let's just say that I had to regrettably delete a scene featuring roosters, eggplants, and a bar explosion.)
> 
> Conclusion: Dream sex is nigh impossible when both participants have trigger-happy soldiers masquerading around in their brains.


End file.
